


Handle With Care

by swtalmnd



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: First Time, Hand Fetish, Hand Jobs, Inception Bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11517252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: Arthur loved to watch Eames' hands move while his mind worked. It was becoming a problem.





	Handle With Care

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Inceptiversary!
> 
> Thank you to teacuphuman09 for the beta, and to corinnetags & isidore13 for cheerreading!

Arthur loved to watch Eames' hands move while his mind worked. They were never still, always flipping a poker chip, spinning a pen, tapping his knee, or stroking his chin. His hands were thick, solid, but they had a grace to them that hit Arthur right in the libido.

It was becoming a problem.

Arthur had rejected Eames' flirtations early on, before he really saw what Eames had to offer. Before he realized Eames what had been actually offering, to be honest. So now Eames took a petty sort of delight in tipping Arthur's chair instead, shooting down his ideas, and mocking his word choices as though the rejection had been about anything but professional distance.

Arthur sighed and pulled his eyes away from where Eames had been twirling a bullet in his fingers and pulled his thoughts out of his pants. He hadn't lied when he'd shot Eames down -- workplace romance was inappropriate then, and it was inappropriate now, even if it was Arthur doing the lusting.

"Dreamshare is no place for entanglements," said Eames lightly, as if he'd been reading Arthur's less-than-appropriate thoughts. "Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"This is a workplace, not a club," said Arthur darkly, managing to direct his scowl at the two canoodling kids.

"It's harder to shoot someone out of a dream if you're in love with them," said Eames.

Arthur nodded. "It's easier to get tangled up in what's real and what's not if you're emotionally entangled." He tried not to think about whether his libido was the only thing fixated on Eames' hands.

He had a feeling he wouldn't like the answer.

* * *

"I knew you'd back me up with your stick-in-the-mud attitude," said Eames, coming over to lean on Arthur's desk.

"Only because I know he thinks he's just using her, and she's more into women and just wanted to get laid," said Arthur. Eames' fingers tapped in the corner of his vision and he forced his eyes up to Eames' face. "Not everyone's gonna end up like Mal and Dom."

Eames' hand came up to rub at his scruff while he thought and Arthur had to swallow down a hot flash something between annoyance and want. "You haven't shot me out of a dream in ages."

"You never shoot me, either," replied Arthur, sounding cranky even to himself. "But I'm pretty sure you're real, because this would be a pretty pointless dream."

"Want to give me a feel, see if the shape and weight is the way you imagine?" said Eames, leaning in, voice light. His fingers danced down Arthur's sleeve, teased over the back of Arthur's hand. "Or do you want me to touch you, darling?"

Arthur's gaze shot up, face going hot. "Is this just another joke, then?"

"No, petal." Eames' voice was gentle, and he brought his hand up to cup Arthur's face, thumb stroking along Arthur's cheekbone. "But now that you finally look like you want me, how can I resist one more try?"

"I didn't think you were serious," blurted Arthur. "Back then, I thought. No one hits on me first thing, especially not in dreamshare."

Eames' ran his thumb over Arthur's lower lip. "What do you like, besides my hands?"

"Are you fishing for compliments or inquiring about my sexual preferences?" Arthur tried to make it sound dignified, but it was difficult with his breath caught in his chest and cock straining against his pants.

Eames scooted closer. "Bit of both, perhaps?" His grin was crooked, and his eyes were still wary despite that, like he wasn't sure of this new, more amenable Arthur.

"I like handjobs, obviously," said Arthur, pitching his voice low. "I like fingersucking and cocksucking, and being fucked while I'm stroked off. I like your mouth, and I want to kiss you for an hour while you finger me and then ride you until we're both limp and sweaty. I like how clever and creative you are, and I want to see what you'll do with my body and your hands and carte blanche as long as it feels good."

Eames let out a soft noise, pupils dilating. "Those are all good thing. Let's go do some of them, shall we?"

"Room service?" asked Arthur, turning to close up his workspace with distracted efficiency. He pocketed the two Moleskines he was using for the job and the personal one he was using to work out his frustrations about Eames and shut down his laptop.

"On me, love," said Eames lightly.

"I like that, too," Arthur replied teasingly, standing up and adjusting himself and his suit so his erection wouldn't be too obvious. "Coming on you."

Eames laughed delightedly. "Do you want to be on top, love? So you can watch me reach up and touch you?"

It was Arthur's turn to swallow an embarrassingly needy sound. "I could be persuaded."

"It sounds like we have a plan for our evening, then," said Eames. He let his hand rest in the small of Arthur's back, warm and innocuous as they headed out.

"We'll never hear the end of this if they figure us out, you know." Arthur felt like he had to say it, but it wasn't like he'd let it stop him at this point.

Eames chuckled wickedly. "Then I'll be sure not to leave any evidence where they can see it, because they're far too young to be that smug."

Arthur laughed, knowing his dimples must be showing and, for once, not minding a bit. He let Eames get them a cab back to Eames' hotel, which was next door to Arthur's hotel. "Should we get something from your room now or later?" asked Eames, as they got out.

"I'll go in the morning. It'll be better to arrive separately, anyway," said Arthur. "You can go to that secret bakery and get us a treat."

They kept the light banter up on the way to the room, but as soon as Eames put out the Do Not Disturb sign and closed the latch, Arthur pressed him up against the door for a very hungry kiss.

"Sex first, then room service?" asked Eames, looking very smug indeed.

"And then more sex," said Arthur, working Eames' clothes open as efficiently as possible. Arthur wanted to wreck him, to finally feel those hands on him, and he didn't feel like he could wait for the leisure of bed.

"You want it like this," said Eames, voice rumbling and full of what Arthur hoped was wonder instead of humor. "Christ, Arthur."

"Touch me, Eames," ordered Arthur, too worked up to be subtle as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it aside.

Eames slid his hands around Arthur's waist, measuring and caressing, and then he flipped them so it was Arthur against the door with Eames pressed against him. Eames' clothing was open but still on, showing glimpses of his strong body and tattooed skin. "Yes, darling."

Arthur made an indecent noise and kissed that mouth greedily. Eames let him, hands moving over his body, slipping buttons through buttonholes, tugging and opening and generally disheveling Arthur in a very good way. He had surprisingly soft hands; he must do most of his shooting in dreams, whereas Arthur had calluses from guns and pens and too much typing. Gentle fingertips skimmed over Arthur's skin, exploring him now that he had access and permission both.

Arthur encouraged this with more kisses, more sounds, and a greedy roll of his hips into Eames'. They were of a height, so this drew a groan from them both, and Eames finally, finally got his hand down Arthur's pants.

Arthur found enough presence of mind to get Eames' cock out, to suck Eames' fingers -- now tasting of precome and musk -- until they were slick; to lick at the creases of Eames' palm before wrapping that big hand around both of their erections.

Arthur moaned into the kiss that followed, drinking in Eames' sounds as well. His eyes fluttered shut even though he wanted to watch, but it was just too much and he knew he was going to come fast like some horny teenager.

"Do it," whispered Eames, voice a purr of want. "Show me, Arthur, cover me in it, let me see you and then watch me return the favor."

Arthur gasped and came, helpless against Eames' hand, Eames' voice, and Eames' fingers wrapping around his hip and pressing him into the door just that little bit more. He made a mess of them both with it, and he forced his eyes open afterward just to see the look of pure want on Eames' face.

Arthur brought one shaking hand up to spread his slick seed onto Eames' cock, to twine his fingers with Eames' and start them stroking anew. Eames groaned and pressed Arthur into the door with his whole body, his free hand braced against the wood and his face buried in the crook of Arthur's neck. "You're mine now, petal, I'm going to make you never want another."

Arthur kept stroking, his breath catching in his chest. "Why would I need anyone else if I've got you?" he whispered, face rubbing into Eames' hair. The gel was coming undone, letting some of the softness come through, making it stick up in strange places, and Arthur couldn't wait to see it mussed beyond repair against the pillows. "Come for me, Eames, cover me in you."

Eames groaned and bit softly at Arthur's shoulder, hips pumping as he fucked their fists a few more strokes and spilled himself between and upon them. His hand smeared their mixed come over Arthur's stomach and he leaned up for another of those greedy, possessive kisses. "You're mine now," he repeated, looking in Arthur's eyes.

Arthur nodded. "I'm yours now, and you're mine." Arthur kissed him again, tender this time, his fingers stroking over Eames' cheek despite the come drying on them. "And we really need a shower now."

Eames threw his head back and laughed. "Yeah, we do, and something to eat before round two."

"Already taking good care of me," teased Arthur, his dimples no doubt showing his delight.

They kissed a little more despite their stickiness before they pulled apart and Eames gave Arthur a very cheeky look indeed. "You like it when I handle things."

Arthur laughed despite himself.


End file.
